


Worse Than Nicotine

by prxnxykxi



Series: Ryden Angst Fest [6]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, I haven't decided yet., Implied Sexual Content, hahahahah, maaaaaaaaaaaaybe I'll end this in DEATH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prxnxykxi/pseuds/prxnxykxi
Summary: Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo this is kinda like We Are a Hurricane, but not really. Idk. BCM, I promise I'll do your suggestion. :)





	1. I've Lost Control and Don't Want It Back

****

_ Cross my heart and hope to die _

_ Burn my lungs and curse my eyes _

_ I've lost control and I don't want it back _

_ I'm going numb, I've been hijacked _

_ It's a fucking drag _

 

Brendon knew what he was getting into when he joined the band. He knew they were going to be a hit, and he knew that he would be touring with his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s best friend, and  _ his  _ boyfriend. And some guy named Brent. 

 

What he didn’t expect was for his boyfriend and his best friend’s boyfriend to up and leave him for ‘different creative paths’. Nope. He figured Ryan would always be apart of his life. Maybe not Jon, but, then again, Jon wasn’t as important to Brendon as Ryan was. 

 

\-----

 

“Brendon, get the fuck out of bed.” Spencer growled, yanking the sheets off of the half-asleep Brendon.

 

“No. Fuck you.” Brendon grumbled out, pressing himself against the wall. 

 

“Brendon, I swear to god, if you don’t get out of bed I’m going to smash your phone.” Spencer huffed.

 

Brendon turned his head to Spencer, narrowed his eyes slightly, and stuck out his tongue. “Fuck you.” he repeated before burying himself under the pillow.

 

Spencer glared at Brendon and snatched his phone off the bedside table, unlocking it with ease. “Honestly, Brendon, change your password.” he snickered and opening the contacts list. “Now then, who should be deleted.” 

 

Brendon snorted, shaking his head. “It’s not going to work, you ass. I know you won’t really do it.”

 

Spencer hummed softly and came upon Ryan’s contact, clicking on it. “Looky looky, Ryan Ross. You don’t need his number anymore, do you?”

 

Brendon turned his head to Spencer, glaring viciously. “Don’t you fucking dare, Smith.” 

 

“Oh, I dare.” Spencer replied, motioning to the floor in front of him. “Out of bed, or Ryan is gone.”

 

Brendon, now filled to the brim with anger, slowly climbed out of bed and snatched his phone back. 

 

Spencer held his hands up in surrender, taking a small step back from Brendon and his now animalistic attitude. “Jesus, Bren-” 

 

“Don’t call me that.” Brendon snapped.

 

“Okay, okay, Jesus, Brendon. I wasn’t actually going to do it.” Spencer said, staring at the younger man with worry.

 

Brendon scoffed, pushed past Spencer and slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving Spencer to stare at it in confusion.

 

\-----

 

“You gonna be good for the show tonight?” Spencer asked as he adjusted Brendon’s jacket.

 

“I’ll be fine, Spencer.” Brendon replied. His anger had dialed down from that morning’s incident, but he still shot Spencer daggers each time his back was turned. And it wasn’t Spencer’s fault Ryan was gone. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He simply didn’t have anything to take his anger out on.

 

“Two minutes.” called the tour manager from the other side of the door.

 

Brendon sighed and made a last minute adjustment to his hair. “It’s not the same without him.” 

 

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer nodded. “Try to remember, he was my best friend. If anyone should be upset, it’s me.” 

 

Brendon raised a brow at Spencer, silently asking him what the Hell that meant.

 

“You know what I mean, Brendon. I’m sure you really cared about him but I’ve known him my whole life.” Spencer explained.

 

Brendon only shook his head, opening the green room door. “Go.”

 

\-----

 

“Spenc! Spenc, you saw him too, right?” Brendon exclaimed as he walked back to the green room, Spencer just a few steps in front of him.

 

“Saw who, Brendon?” Spencer questioned, glancing back at Brendon.

 

“Ryan. Ryan was in the crowd. I saw him. He was near the front, on the floor.” said Brendon, his tone implying that Spencer was insane for not seeing Ryan.

 

“Brendon, I was up there the same amount of time as you, and I never saw Ryan. I’m damn sure I would’ve heard him with the way he screams at concerts. Besides, don’t you think he would’ve let us know if he was going to be here?” 

 

Brendon paused for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe. Whatever. I know what I saw. He was there.” 

 

“You need to sleep.” Spencer shook his head. “Or lay off the energy drinks.”

 

Brendon scoffed, quickly grabbing his phone and sending Ryan a message.

 

**To: Ryan Ross**

**I saw you**

 

**From: Ryan Ross**

**Where?**

 

**To: Ryan Ross**

**The concert?**

 

**From: Ryan Ross**

**I wasn’t there? Sorry, Bren. :/**


	2. Damn Your Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ENDDDDDDDDDD MY LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE
> 
> I want to point out that I am asexual trash and this is the only relatively sexual scene i've written outside of role play so...yeaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh. ENJOY THE SIN.

_ I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you _

_ So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do _

_ You're worse than nicotine _

_ You're worse than nicotine _

 

How could Ryan not have been there. It was impossible. Brendon saw him. He had seen him with his own two eyes. He’d made eye contact, he’d smiled. It was impossible for Ryan to have been just a trick his eyes played on him.

 

“Brendon? Hey, Brendon, could ya’ move please?” Spencer asked, nudging Brendon’s shoulder gently.

 

“What?” Brendon looked up and shook his head. 

 

“You’ve been standing there for like, five minutes. Could you move so I can brush my teeth?” Spencer asked again as he pushed his way in front of the sink.

 

Brendon nodded a little, turning and leaving the bathroom. He quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and crawled into bed, pressing his face into the pillow.

 

“Night, Brendon.” Spencer mumbled from his own bed.

 

Brendon responded with a grunt and a nod, burrowing into the sheets. Soon enough, he was asleep.

 

\-----

 

**_Brendon felt himself crash against the wall behind him, short nails scraping at the tacky wallpaper that covered the room from one end to the other. He was panting harshly, eyes barely open. Still, he could make out the familiar figure of Ryan standing over him, hands trailing over his shoulders, his stomach, his chest. They stopped at his hips and held him in place, leaving no room for movement below the waist._ **

 

**_The feel of Ryan’s lips against his neck was comforting somehow. It was familiar, and special. Ryan never behaved this way with anyone else. Only Brendon. Brendon knew that._ **

 

**_Another pant left the safety of Brendon’s throat as Ryan worked his way down, stopping once he reached his collar bone. Ryan’s lips ghosted over the skin there, barely touching. Then, they traveled back up. Up Brendon’s neck, up his jaw and to his mouth. Before Brendon could kiss him though, Ryan was gone, leaving Brendon standing in the hotel room, shirtless, panting, alone._ **

 

\-----

 

Brendon woke with a start, gasping for air as he sat up. He gripped the mattress tightly, needing to make sure that it was there. That this was real. He heard a small groan and a grunt from the other bed, and then Spencer was sitting up as well, staring over at Brendon. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up every which way.

 

“Brendon? You okay?” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair in attempt to tame it slightly. 

 

“What? Yeah...yeah, I’m fine.” Brendon nodded, taking another deep breath before swinging his feet over the edge of the mattress and standing. 

 

“Where you goin’?” Spencer asked as he let himself fall back into the mattress. 

 

“Water.” Brendon stated and pushed the bathroom door open, flicking on the light before closing it again.

 

He stood over the sink, watching the water run from the tap down the drain. Cupping his hands, he splashed his face, taking a few minutes to compose himself. 

  
He needed to get Ryan out of his head.  _ Now. _


	3. I'm Losing to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really really proud of the way this chapter was written. I don't know about you, but I think it's one of my best.

_ It's better to burn than to fade away _

_ It's better to leave than to be replaced _

_ I'm losing to you, baby, I'm no match _

_ I'm going numb, I've been hijacked _

_ It's a fucking drag _

 

Counseling? Had Spencer really just suggested counseling? Brendon looked up from where he was staring at his breakfast to narrow his eyes at Spencer. 

 

“You’re joking.” he said, rolling his eyes. “Very funny, Spencer.”

 

Spencer stared right back at Brendon, his expression plagued with sincerity. “Brendon, I’m not kidding. I really think you need to talk to someone and if it’s not going to be me…” 

 

“Why the fuck do you think I need to talk to someone?” Brendon inquired, feeling the anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Because it’s getting out of control! First with his contact, then at the concert, and now the dreams? It’s not the first one you’ve had, Brendon. You know that.”

 

“Oh like you’ve got any room to talk.” snapped Brendon. The growl that followed the comment was downright  _ vicious _ .

 

“We’re not talking about me right now, Bren…” Spencer said. His voice was filled with hurt, maybe from the comment, maybe from Brendon’s denial to get himself help. Maybe both.

 

“Spencer, I…” Brendon let a sigh slip as the anger drained away, leaving him empty. “Fine.”

 

“Thank you, Bren.” Spencer smiled.

 

“Please stop calling me that.” Brendon requested. Spencer nodded, digging his phone from his pocket.

 

\-----

 

The office was more comfortable than Brendon had expected it to be. The desk that sat in the corner of the room, near the window, was polished to a shine, barely a speck of dust on the surface. The drapes, however, were not a pretty sight. They were floral, and not a ‘oh, that could be nice to look at once in awhile’ type of floral. They were a pukish-brown colour, littered with salmon pink flowers. It made Brendon cringe as he sat in the arm chair across from the woman behind the desk. 

 

The woman herself was mousy looking and, much like the drapes, tacky. She wore a violet blazer over a salmon blouse. Brendon had caught a glimpse of her skirt when she stood to shake his hand. The same colour as her blazer. The shoes poking out from under the desk were brown, nearing the same shade as the drapes. Her hair - brown with a few strands of greying hair - was pulled into a tight bun that barely held it all in place. Her bangs curled over her forehead, adding to her tacky look. 

 

“Brendon Urie!” she squeaked out as she sat back down. Her voice matched her appearance.

 

“Yeah.” Brendon replied dryly. Spencer had told him to be nice, but he didn’t make any promises.

 

The smile plastered over the woman’s face was rather terrifying, like she couldn’t believe she was sitting right in front of Brendon Boyd Urie. Which was probably true, to be honest. “Well, my name is Dolores Dreshaw, and I’m just such a big fan of your music so when your friend - oh, what was his name? Seamus Smythe? Yes, that must’ve been it -, when Seamus called me, well, I just jumped on it. It’s not everyday you get to be Brendon Urie’s therapist.”

 

Now, at this point, Brendon was silently cursing Spencer for putting his mental health in the care of this...well, he didn’t know how to describe her. She was just plain awful. Still, he smiled, the pain of how this was going seeping through into his eyes. “Right...can we move on? I’m sure you’ve got other clients.” 

 

“Nonsense!” Dolores shook her head, taking Brendon’s hand in hers. “We can talk for however long you like, Brendon.”

 

The way she said his name made Brendon want to throw himself out the window a thousand times over. The roll of the R in ‘Bren’ followed by the purr of ‘dan’ felt wrong in so many ways, Brendon didn’t know where to begin. “Let’s get this over with.” he sighed.

 

Dolores nodded quickly and scooped up her notes that were scattered across the desk. “Now, Stephen told me you’ve been having illusions of your boyfriend, oh, I’m sorry,  _ ex _ -boyfriend? And some dreams of sorts. He didn’t give me all the details, as a good friend would do. Now, tell me about your dreams.” 

 

Brendon frowned, staring right back Dolores. The look in her eyes and the way she leaned over the desk like she was watching a suspenseful movie made Brendon squirm in his seat. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

 

“Oh, come now, Brendon, I won’t tell anyone.” Dolores promised.

 

_ ‘Except maybe all of your friends.’  _ thought Brendon. “No, I really don’t want to talk about them. They’re...personal.”

 

Dolores nodded slowly. “Tell me about your relationship with Ryan Ross. He is your  _ ex _ , correct?”

 

Brendon swallowed harshly. This was going to be interesting.

 

\-----

 

As Brendon predicted, the rest of the meeting dragged on with Dolores asking him questions about him and Ryan, or when his next show was going to be, or if he had a new love interest. Most of the questions pertained mostly to her own selfish wants. 

 

“Well, Brendon, I think we’ve had a lovely time and I hope to see you back here soon.” Dolores said as she stood, holding out a hand for Brendon to shake. 

 

Brendon took it hesitantly, rolling his eyes when she slipped her business card into his other hand with her personal number scrawled across the back. She giggled - at least that’s what Brendon assumed it was - and waved him goodbye.

 

“So, how’d it go?” Spencer asked when Brendon returned to the hotel room. 

 

“Awful, Spencer, just awful.” Brendon said, putting emphasis on the last ‘awful’ with a flop onto his bed. 

 

“How so?” Spencer questioned, tilting his head and sitting on the end of Brendon’s bed.

 

“Y’know how in movies the therapist is so infatuated with their client they forget what they’re supposed to be doing?”

 

Spencer nodded slowly, frowning. “Yeah?”

 

“Well, that happened. Turns out she’s a huge fan of ours. All she wanted to know was details about the shows...and she kept asking really weird questions about me and Ryan.” Brendon explained. 

 

“Sorry, Brendon.” Spencer said and hung his head, hair falling over his face. 

 

“It’s fine, Spence. I’m just gonna take a nap, okay?” Brendon nodded, kicking off his shoes and worming his way under the blankets.

 

Spencer nodded and got up, making his way out of the room. When he closed the door, he stopped, hearing a mumble from the other side. 

 

“Love you, Ryan…” came Brendon’s voice. He sounded so defeated, but it was almost as if Brendon was talking to someone right in front of him.

  
Spencer sighed and shook his head. Brendon needed some real help. And fast.


	4. I Can't Get Rid of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yay this is shitty. hope you're motherfucking enjoying, because I know I sure am.

_ I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you _

_ So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do _

_ You're worse than nicotine _

_ You're worse than nicotine _

 

Throughout the duration of Brendon’s nap, Spencer made several calls. One to Jon, one to the tour manager, and the last to Ryan himself. Everything was planned out. Now all he had to do was get Brendon out of bed.

 

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” Spencer sang, shaking Brendon’s shoulder gently.

 

Brendon groaned, batting blindly at Spencer. “No. I’m tired. Go away.”

 

“Brendon, I booked us a dinner reservation. C’mon, it’ll be good for you to get out. Forget about everything.” Spencer said, tugging on Brendon’s arm so that he rolled onto his back.

 

“I’m good here.” Brendon denied, giving an effortless tug at his arm. 

 

“Shut up. C’mon, get up! Get dressed! We’re leaving in five minutes!” Spencer exclaimed, finally managing to yank Brendon out of bed. 

 

“I hate you.” Brendon grumbled.

 

Spencer smirked. “For now.”

 

\-----

 

“Where are we going?” Brendon asked as he watched the buildings pass, the street lights illuminating the people on the sidewalk.

 

“You’ll see.” Spencer hummed, grinning wildly. 

 

“I hate you” Brendon assured, watching as the cab slowed in front of a restaurant that Brendon was all too familiar with. “Spencer…”

 

“Yes, Brendon?” Spencer grinned, tilting his head innocently.

 

“You did not book this reservation here...right? This is just some cruel joke?” Brendon asked, his voice pleading.

 

“Nope! All serious. Now let’s go, we’re already late.” Spencer said as he shoved Brendon out of the cab.

 

The two men made their way into the restaurant, Brendon trailing behind with a scowl on his face. As they were lead to their table, reserved for Smith, party of four, Spencer elbowed Brendon’s gut. 

 

“Stop that. You’ll get us kicked out and then you can’t have the surprise I planned for you.” he said.

 

Brendon sighed quietly and stopped scowling, his expression turning stoic. “Better?” he hissed to Spencer.

 

“Much.” replied Spencer as he and Brendon sat across from each other.

 

“Why’d you mark us a party of four?” Brendon inquired.

 

“You’ll see.” Spencer smirked, opening his menu. 

 

Soon enough, Brendon began to realise what Spencer had done. It dawned on him when Jon appeared behind their waiter. He sat beside Spencer, grinning like a madman. He was in on this stupid,  _ stupid,  _ plan of Spencer’s.

 

“Hey, Brendon.” Jon greeted as he took his menu from the waiter and opened it, eyes scanning the options. 

 

“Jon.” Brendon nodded his greeting in return, voice flat.

 

“You weren’t kidding.” Jon mumbled to Spencer. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” Spencer replied, glancing up at Brendon. 

 

\-----

 

Not ten minutes had passed when the waiter returned, clearly with someone else. Brendon barely turned his head, waiting for the other person to either leave or say something. When they didn’t Brendon looked up at Jon and Spencer, who were grinning wickedly.

 

Brendon sent them a suspicious glare and turned his head to look up at the person the waiter had brought with him. When he did, his mouth nearly dropped open. He felt a lump form in his throat and a knot tie in his chest. 

  
“Ryan?”


	5. But I Need it So Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's this shit storm. I figured I'd end it happy, considering the pain of the previous works.

_ Just one more hit and then we're through _

_ 'Cause you could never love me back _

_ Cut every tie I have to you _

_ 'Cause your love's a fucking drag _

_ But I need it so bad _

_ Your love's a fucking drag _

_ But I need it so bad _

 

“Hey, Bren.” Ryan smiled softly down at the man, mouth moving with the silent words spilling out of it. 

 

Brendon looked to Spencer with a ‘you can see him too, right?’ look. Spencer nodded, making a subtle motion for Brendon to do something. Anything, really. 

 

So Brendon stood, and threw his arms around Ryan’s neck, pressing his face into the spot where his shoulder met his neck. Ryan’s arms made their way around Brendon’s middle, a hand running over his back, soothing him. 

 

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” Brendon mumbled against Ryan’s skin, relishing in the hold that Ryan kept him in. 

 

“It’s really me, Bren.” Ryan replied, the volume of his voice matching Brendon’s own. 

 

“Missed you…” Brendon said as he moved closer to the taller man, his eyes squeezed shut. He refused to open them. He refused, because he was scared that if he did, Ryan would disappear, like he had before. 

 

“I know, Spencer filled me in. You wanna go some place? Talk?” Ryan asked and gently pulled away from Brendon, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. 

 

Brendon nodded, leaning into the touch as he slowly, unsurely, opened his eyes. “Yeah…” he said quietly. 

 

Ryan glanced to the two other men that were still sitting, silently asking if that was okay. Spencer nodded and motioned for them to go. So they did. 

 

Ryan slipped his hand into Brendon’s shaking one, carefully leading him out to the curb where he hailed a cab. As Brendon climbed into the cab, he glanced back at Ryan. Several times. Ryan gave a chuckle, shaking his head. 

 

“Bren, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” he assured, closing the car door gently. 

 

Brendon nodded and gave Ryan’s hand a gentle squeeze, shifting up under the man’s arm. 

 

The way Brendon was resting his head against Ryan’s chest, looking so scared, reminded Ryan of how things used to be. When Brendon would have a bad dream or when something caught him off guard, or sometimes when his own thoughts would get in the way of him functioning properly. It reminded him of how he was there for Brendon. He regretted not being there anymore.

 

The jolt of the cab stopping brought Ryan back into reality. He peered up at the hotel, taking a small breath. “C’mon, Bren. We’ll go in, then we can talk.” 

 

Brendon nodded and followed Ryan out of the cab, leading him to his room. “How’d Spencer get you to come?” he asked once they were in the safety of Brendon’s room and sitting down. 

 

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, tilting his head slightly.

 

“I mean, why did you come here? I’m almost positive Spencer didn’t just call you up and ask you down here. So how’d he do it?” Brendon specified, staring intently at Ryan. 

 

“Bren, he told me what happened. With the dreams and the concert. Even the phone. It sounded bad.” Ryan said. “Why do you think I would come down here? It wasn’t bribed, and I’m not getting anything out of this. I care about you.” 

 

The room was silent, save for the people in the room next door shouting at each other. Brendon shifted and the bed creaked under him. Ryan bit the inside of his lip, getting an eerie feeling in his stomach. 

 

“Why’d you leave then?” Brendon asked after a few minutes, his eyes fixed on the floor. 

 

“I-” Ryan paused, wrapping his arm around Brendon’s shoulders. “Brendon, you know why I left.”

 

“I thought you cared about me.” Brendon mumbled. “It’s not the same without you, Ryan.” 

 

“I’m sorry, I am. But, Bren, you’re doing great. And I know you’ll continue to do great, and if you really,  _ really,  _ want me to, I’ll come back.” Ryan said, tilting Brendon’s head up so that he was looking directly into the younger man’s eyes.

 

“You will?” asked Brendon, his voice barely above a whisper. 

 

“I will.” Ryan nodded, waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one, he pressed his lips against Brendon’s. “I will.” He murmured again. 

  
  


\-----

 

When Brendon woke up the next morning, the familiar warmth of Ryan was gone. It was clear he had been there, though. Brendon slowly sat up, running a hand through his hair. To the left of him, Spencer lay flat on his stomach, one arm draped over Jon’s chest. 

 

If Jon was there, surely Ryan was somewhere around here. Brendon glanced at the sheets hanging off the side of the bed, looking to be wrapped around someone’s legs. He moved to that place, looking down at Ryan, sleeping face first on the floor. 

 

“Ryan?” Brendon whispered.

 

With a groan, Ryan slowly maneuvered himself so that he could look up and Brendon. “Morning.” he grinned. 

  
“C’mon.” Brendon chuckled. “I’m hungry.”


End file.
